Never Stop
By: Vanacorien
Warnings: Yaoi angst, R rating for violence adult language and sex/sexual situations. The pairing is 3*4. I do not now nor have I ever-owned Gundam Wing; I just kidnap the bishi's and hold them captive for a while.
Author's notes: Now that I have an editor, all my chappies should be grammatically correct. At least I can hope so. I at least try to spell right any way. If you see any blaring errors please tell me, other than that I think were all-good. In any case bu~ bye and enjoy the ride!!
Chapter Three of Never Stop: On the road to healing, the first bump.
It had been three days since he had collapsed (for the second time no) less into Trowa's arms, and the brunet Doctor still refused to let him leave his apartment. Albeit Trowa now let him out of bed, but he insisted that he still remain on a liquid diet because; though his fever had broken two days ago, he had shortly after developed a cough. Trowa estimated that it was because of his weakened state and the fact that he had been wondering around New York City half dressed on a rainy October night. Trowa had not asked any questions about him, neither his state of near undress nor his appearance of having, as he so delicately put it 'that just mugged' look. For which Quatre was very grateful.
Quatre himself was still having trouble coping with it. It had not been the first time one of his lovers had gotten angry or tired of him. No, that seemed to be a sport of sort. Break down the young blonde's defenses then blow up at him in a fit of pent up sexual furry, and then lash out in some way, though no one had ever lashed out with fists before. Sighing at the turmoil in his mind, Quatre rose from his bed in the guest room and walked steadily down the hallway towards the kitchen. He heard the faint sputter of Trowa's coffee pot and smiled slightly. The doctor always woke up before him. This was a bit of a wonder in his mind, because he normally didn't sleep in after 6:00a.m. on most days.
He tied the green and blue flannel robe tighter around his waist; having borrowed it from Trowa it was far too big for him. And even when the belt was tied firmly it hung loosely on his hips most of the time. He sighed again, it was becoming a habit. He hated being petit. Trowa was sitting on one of the stools surrounding the island in the kitchen, the morning's paper spread out before him. Quatre cleared his throat discreetly, not wanting to startle the other person. Trowa nodded in his direction a small smile flitting across his handsome face. "Good morning Quatre." He said warmly looking up to him as he reached for his coffee cup.
"Good morning Trowa, what are you still doing home." He inched closer to the coffee pot, hoping he could snag a cup before Trowa could notice. Being on a liquid diet of broth meant no caffeine, and if Quatre had to live one more day with out coffee he just might snap on the poor well-meaning doctor. Trowa looked directly at Quatre a small smile playing on his face. "I was given the day off, apparently I work too much. And I already have your orange juice set out right here, don't waste it." Quatre's shoulders slumped in incredulous defeat. Trowa laughed at the comical sight he presented, and took another sip of his coffee looking at him over his glasses. "You've been trying for the past three days; I don't expect you'd give up now."
Quatre smiled shaking his head at the injustice of it all and sat down on the stool across from him. Taking a sip of his still cool orange juice he shuddered at the tart taste and didn't notice the way Trowa watched as he licked his lips attempting to get all of the sticky juice off. He set the glass down gently on the black marble top of the island and looked at Trowa for a minute twiddling his thumbs. "Trowa, I think there's something we need to discuss." Trowa looked up, laid the paper down, then re-shifted him self on the seat and picked up his coffee. "Of course, what's on your mind?" Quatre took a deep breath readying him; he really didn't have any choice in this. It was very kind of Trowa to be helping him like this but he couldn't keep being so hospitable forever. Nothing this good ever lasted longer than a year at most. "I'd like to return to my old apartment." He said in a great whoosh of breath. Trowa arched one brow elegantly and motioned with his mug to continue. "I can't keep excepting hospitality like this, and I certainly can't keep borrowing yours or your brothers' clothes."
Trowa nodded sagely and set his cup down folding his hands in front of him, he then looked at Quatre hard. "That's not all." He said quietly, his forest green eyes were so expressive Quatre almost thought he saw a kind of urgency there. Quatre looked down at his hands; not wanting the other to see what he knew was mirrored in them. "Quatre," Trowa commanded softly. He looked up to see a softer expression on the doctor's face while Trowa's hand reached out to lightly touch his arm. "I cannot help if I don't know the situation." Quatre smiled shyly. "Mission analysis?" He said jokingly allowing a soft smile to grace his face. Trowa did not look amused. He put his head down on the counter top, repressing the urge to sigh.
"Well, I suppose what you mean is my . . . nervousness?" Quatre knew he was purposely stuttering and hesitating. Just so that Trowa might get bored, say forget it, and leave him alone to face his shame and humiliation with out an audience. He heard an impatient sigh and had just a second to look up before his nose nearly bumped Trowa's. Quatre tried to jerk back but the stern look in Trowa's eyes stopped him "Quatre," He said slowly, his eyes never leaving the others'. While Quatre wondered lamely if this was what prey saw before the predator pounced, he doubted that normal prey ever had such a good-looking predator. "I have a very bad feeling that the one who did this to you is going to be at that apartment." As Trowa said this calmly, Quatre's face burned. He then broke eye contact, looking off to the left while shielding his eyes behind his bangs. "It's not what you think," He said quietly. "It's not really my apartment it's his. But I have some very important things in there and I need to get them. You don't have to worry. I'm not asking you to come with me, that'd be too-"Quatre's eyes widened in surprise as a soft yet firm hand gripped his chin forcefully and pulled his face back up to stare at now cool green eyes. The fingers on his chin tilted his head up slightly and Trowa spoke loudly and clearly. "When are you going to realize Mr. Winner that you are, in no way, a bother to me? That if I was angry with you I wouldn't hesitate to either clock you or throw you into the hallway? I do not trouble myself with things that are meaningless or a waste of time Quatre. So stop telling me that you will not trouble me any more or that you don't want to burden me. If you were a burden then you wouldn't be here." Then why am I still here? Quatre thought sadly, pulling his chin from Trowa's now lax hold he slipped off the stool, taking his juice glass to the sink he set it in and rinsed it out. "You don't, understand Trowa." He said quietly, the glass now fully rinsed he turned the water off as he carefully dried off his hands on the dishtowel over the sink.
Trowa moved to stand behind him, leaning on the island. "What don't I understand Quatre?" Quatre turned to him then, his eyes sparkling; as his cheeks took on a rosy pink hew. "You don't know me at all, how could you trust me so completely? How do you know that I'm not what I say I am?" Quatre looked to his feet again, willing the tears to go away and leave him alone. He was so damned emotional, he sometimes wondered if he really was a woman trapped in a mans body. Two strong hands settled one on each shoulder and Quatre brought his head up slightly so now he was looking at Trowa's chest and not his bare feet. "I know Quatre," Said Trowa softly and firmly. "Because I have never before had a guest who not only tries his best to stay out of the way, but almost tries to act as if he weren't even there." Quatre blushed and lowered his gaze once again. "That doesn't prove anything." He muttered miserably. He felt the sudden shake in Trowa's arms and looked up to find the taller man silently laughing.
"Why are you laughing?" He asked somewhat indignantly. Trowa looked down upon him again, an amused light now present in his eyes. "You are absolutely right, it doesn't prove anything, but the fact still remains that I believe you are a good person let alone a bother. And that my friend is more than enough for me." Quatre looked up into Trowa's eyes blinking stupidly. Trowa moved his face slightly closer, leaning down in a way that seemed intimate. Then he smiled and patted Quatre on the shoulder. "Well get dressed Quatre, after all what better time than the present to claim your things." Trowa moved away from him and headed down the hallway to his room. "I'll meet you in the living room in 10 minutes, hurry though I have other things we can do once we get your things." Quatre's feeling of relief was short lived as soon as the word "we" was out of Trowa's mouth he found the small blond almost frantically jogging down the hall to him. "B-But Trowa I coul-"Trowa stopped dead still causing Quatre to bump lightly into the brunette's back smacking his nose smartly against Trowa's shoulder blades. Quatre began to protest as soon as Trowa turned around, but stopped as the coldness in his eyes came back with a vengeance.
"Quatre," He said his voice once again firm. He nodded slightly. "If I don't go, you don't go. Understood?" He nodded his head weakly, backing up slightly. Suddenly the look was gone to be replaced with the mild amusement he normally saw there. "Good, see you in ten minutes." Quatre nodded dumbly as he turned and walked steadily down the hall to his own room. Oh for the love of all the gods, what have I gotten into?
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Trowa glanced over at Quatre as they proceeded to get closer and closer to their destination. His black mustang convertible hummed softly as they drove in the direction Quatre had spoken to him. Quatre sat subdued and silent in the passenger seat glancing almost fervently out the window at anything. Trowa wanted to ask if the blonde wanted to just get his things through the police, but knew he would never even think about it. Hell, he probably thought he'd be burdening the cops if he reported anything less than a triple homicide or a 20-man gang shooting. Trowa knew he was being unfair but he couldn't help it.
They stopped at a light and Trowa glanced once again at the young man next to him. Quatre hadn't spoken to him anymore than necessary since leaving the house, and barely looked at him unless he thought he was going on unobserved. This hadn't been like the young man he had been talking to for the last three days. As Quatre's health had improved the boy had seemed less easy to spook. He didn't jump when touched any more, something that both relieved and informed Trowa. If Quatre had been taking abuse for a long time then he would still be flinching and even more nervous or worried than he now appeared to be. He had also spoken much more. He told Trowa that he had fled his apartment after a disagreement with his partner and had been hoping to make it to his friend's house in order to recuperate.
For some reason beyond Trowa, the man seemed to believe that it was his fault that he had to leave in the first place. Trowa hadn't spoken of his thoughts on the subject to the sensitive young man, though. "Trowa." He glanced over at Quatre noticing with no small amount of trepidation that the boys face had gone slightly paler. "That, that's it right up there on the right," Trowa looked up ahead and saw the old brick building he was pointing to, it was one of those inner city slums, this one happened to be near little Italy. It may have once been a grand apartment complex some time in the fifties or sixties, but was turned into a less than grand brick structure with the over use of uncaring hands. It was made with a circular inner courtyard and a large black wrought iron gate encircling the whole of the building.
Trowa pulled up to the curb, turning off the engine he withdrew the keys from the ignition and turned to look at Quatre. He was biting his lip nervously, the abused flesh turning into a deeper shade of pink than it was. His fingers were curling and uncurling on his thigh whilst digging into the jeans Trowa had let him borrow. He looks damn scared, and damn ready to bolt. "Quatre," He said cautiously. The blonde's head whipped around, eyes widened. "What?" Trowa's puzzlement must have shown on his face for the blonde looked back to his lap immediately. Trowa placed a comforting hand on the young man's shoulder and began to rub it soothingly in small circles. Quatre relaxed a little under his ministrations and let the tension in his shoulders drain out. He looked to Trowa to find warm green eyes upon him again. "Quatre, are you sure you want to do this? There are other ways to get your things; this is making you a nervous wreck." The boy smiled brightly, though Trowa could plainly see the doubt behind his eyes, the doubt and the tiny fragment of fear. "No Trowa, I'm sure I want to do this." Trowa nodded and opened his door. He got out and stood, looking around he could see a couple of street punks down the sidewalk from them and was glad he had put up the top. As soon as Quatre got out of the car he locked the doors and turned on the alarm.
They both walked up the short stone steps to the gateway, and old intercom barely hanging onto the door crackled to life, as they grew closer. "Who is it?" The voice sounded decidedly young, as young as Quatre maybe, but there was a surely a bored note to it that clearly said 'I don't want to be here.' "Wufei?" Said Quatre hesitantly pressing lightly on the dirty button of the com. There was a pause of static on the other end then a slightly surprised. "Quatre?" Quatre sighed slightly relieved and pressed the button again smiling genuinely. "Well who else would it be silly? I came with uh," Quatre glanced back at Trowa who had been standing slightly behind him. Trowa smiled waving his fingers mockingly. "My uh, new friend." There was static again for a moment and then the gates shrieked with protest as they opened. "Come in; bring you Friend with you while you're at it."
Quatre blushed slightly at the mocking tone in the boy's voice and led the way through the old courtyard. He walked briskly across the courtyard the place actually looking much better from the inside than the out. When they reached the double glass doors that lead to the actual building Trowa held the door open for the little blonde, after he scurried in under his arm Trowa stepped in behind him. The lobby of the building was done in a rich classic kind of way. Something you would think to find in little Italy. The walls and ceiling were trimmed with fine dark wood, sculpted and done delicately while the carpets that covered the green and white marble floors were a deep red trimmed with gold.
On each side of the lobby there were two great staircases made of the same black wrought iron that the gates were, black and curving up with the architecture of the building. In the center of the back wall was a large cherry wood desk. Neat as a pin and decorated with a phone computer and what appeared to be security monitors. "Quatre?" The suddenness of another human voice startled even him for a moment and Towa was a little surprised at the youth on the top of the stairs. Granted Wufei was a Chinese or Japanese name but he hadn't expected the grand young man before him. He wore a white long sleeved shirt, stretched taunt across his chest and abdomen showing off a very well built body, and his lower half was encased in a pair of form fitting jeans. His hair was half up half down, jet black strands pushed gently behind delicate ears brushed his shoulders. A pair of thick wire framed glasses was perched precariously on the tip of his nose, and his bare feet padded softly as he tread down the carpeted stairs.
He smiled brightly as he reached the bottom of the stairs and embraced Quatre hugging him tightly. "It IS you! You little punk! We were worried sick about you, you know? Why when we called Heero's to see if you went there and he said no, me and *Trey just about had a heart attack! And then we called your sisters and more than half of them were out of town and, oh what a mess!" Quatre laughed softly and Trowa looked downward a little abashed. He hadn't meant to make any one else worry. Quatre looked up from where the other boy had forced his head into his shoulder smiling brightly. Trowa wondered if he would need sunglasses. "No need to worry, I was heading for Heero and Duo's but, I, well, I didn't quite make it." He blushed slightly and looked down.
The boy, Wufei, raised an ebony eyebrow and looked over Quatre's shoulder at Trowa with eyes the same onyx as his hair. "What happened?" He asked, he sounded like someone's mother hen, though Trowa admitted to feeling slightly that way toward the young man himself. "He ran into me and passed out; I'm a Doctor over at Manhattan Hospital, so I took him home with me and patched him up. I'm Dr. Trowa Barton by the way." Trowa extended his hand and Wufei took it, shaking it firmly. Quatre blushed harder and muttered some thing about an apology. "You don't have to apologize Quatre." Trowa said quietly. A strange look came onto Wufei's face, but he soon brushed it off and hugged Quatre tighter.
"Well either way I'm glad you're safe. I'm Wufei Chang Kushrenada by the way. Myself and my, um, husband are the landlords of the apartment building." Trowa blinked slightly and Wufei blushed a bit for himself this time. It surprised him a little to hear that Wufei was 'married' but then again he supposed it shouldn't have surprised him so much. Quatre had told him that he was a homosexual, though he kind of suspected that from the start. He had seen many fights between men and women and had seen that damage a woman's fist could do as well as the damage a man's fist could. And Quatre had definitely been hit by a man's hand, which angered Trowa.
Wufei looked back down to Quatre with a slight smile. "I guess this means you leaving huh?" He said a little sadly. Quatre's smile faded and he looked to his feet. There was an almost painful pause as Wufei shifted from foot to foot looking from me to him then back. Finally seeming unable to stand it he cleared his throat. "I'll get the keys for the apartment; we called the cops when we heard the noise so he's been gone for a while." Quatre nodded and Wufei turned to walk up the stairs Quatre following him. As Trowa went to follow, he felt a feather light brush on his shoulder. He looked up to see Quatre, his eyes shining almost pleading with his eyes for him not to follow.
He nodded once and then looked up to Wufei. "I'll wait down here if you don't mind." Wufei nodded then suddenly fished a pair of keys from one of his pockets. "Here," He said tossing the keys to Trowa who caught them easily. "Why don't you go get Quatre's mail, it's in box number 004, the box number is on the key, and the mail boxes are right through that arch." Trowa nodded and saluted Quatre with the keys before turning his back on them. He walked quickly over the rich carpet and through the arch which Wufei had pointed. There were at least fifty or so mail boxes, black and made into the wall, it didn't take Trowa long to find Quatre's. After all when you started out with one how hard was it to find 004. He searched the ring for a moment and found the small brass key, inserting it and then turning it in the lock; he opened the little door wide and reached inside.
As he sifted through the mail, and as he looked he remembered the name that he saw on most of the bills. Jason B. Hunter. Well now he knew the name, if only he could place a face he could then hate this man with all of his might. But then again what's in a face? He found two letters for Quatre in the pile of mail. One of them came from a woman by the scent, the other from a fairly prestigious medical supply company if he were correct, Hay's and Watkins. He put the rest of the mail back in, closing the door quietly and pocketing the two envelops. He was about to turn around when a cold metal object was pressed calmly against the base of his neck. "Don't move a muscle; I have every intention of using this weapon if you give me any cause. Is that clear?" The voice was a rich baritone, slightly accented and strong. Trowa raised his hands and moved to slowly turn around.
As he did so he tensed ready to spring at the slightest misstep. He found himself looking down the cool point of a small switch blade. The cold metal blade gleamed brightly in the dim light. The man was as Trowa had expected him to be tall, a few inches taller than himself with a strong muscular build. His features were chiseled almost like someone had carved him from marble. His skin was slightly tanned and his hair rippled in gold and ginger waves. Two deep blue eyes looked unerringly back at his as one eye brow rose. "Don't tell me, a well to do looking person like you doesn't know it's a federal offense to steal others' mail?" Trowa blinked once, then twice. "Are you not going to answer my question?" Asked the man mockingly as he leveled the blade. Trowa stepped back a little as he relaxed his stance. "What would be the use, it was a rhetorical question. You didn't see how I took the mail did you?"
The man's mouth quirked in a small smile and he lowered the blade some. "True it was a rhetorical question, but I'm glad you've decided to talk to me." Trowa smiled and held the keys up in his left hand so he could see them. "All the better to explain things with." He said, and tossed the keys to the man hoping his guess was right. The ginger man caught them easily still not with drawing the threat of the switch but not advancing it either. The man looked from him then to the keys, then to the small charm hanging form the ring. "I came in here with Quatre, he and Wufei went upstairs to the apartment and Wufei wanted me to get Quatre's mail."
The man shook his head and smiled. Then with an expert flick of his wrist the blade was gone and the switch was secured into the back pocket of his pants. He reached out to take Trowa's hand and Trowa took his in turn both shaking firmly. "Why don't we start over?" He said gently a smile now shining all over his face. "I'm-" There was a sudden bang from the way of the stairs and we both whirled in time to hear a resilient thud and then a pained cry. There were more thuds and before he even knew it both Trowa and the ginger haired man were racing up the stairs. They had both just graced the top when Trowa heard a loud cry "Trowa!" He looked up, and the sight that greeted him made his blood run cold. "Quatre hold on!"
Authors notes: Hahahaha! I left you at a cliff hanger! I'm evil! I have a question, does any one look at any of the authors bios? Because I posted a poll on mine and no one has responded yet! Wahhh! Would you guys be so kind as to visit my bio page and take my poll? Thank you. I'll try to update as soon as I can. Thanks
Extra Note: * I know his name is Treiz, but I thought it'd be cute to have Wufei call him by some nick name cause Treiz calls Wufei Dragon all the time. Just some Fluffiness from my fav pair! ^_^ Couldn't resist! Any who, I'll update soon, and please Take my pole!!
~Owari*
Warnings: Yaoi angst, R rating for violence adult language and sex/sexual situations. The pairing is 3*4. I do not now nor have I ever-owned Gundam Wing; I just kidnap the bishi's and hold them captive for a while.
Author's notes: Now that I have an editor, all my chappies should be grammatically correct. At least I can hope so. I at least try to spell right any way. If you see any blaring errors please tell me, other than that I think were all-good. In any case bu~ bye and enjoy the ride!!
Chapter Three of Never Stop: On the road to healing, the first bump.
It had been three days since he had collapsed (for the second time no) less into Trowa's arms, and the brunet Doctor still refused to let him leave his apartment. Albeit Trowa now let him out of bed, but he insisted that he still remain on a liquid diet because; though his fever had broken two days ago, he had shortly after developed a cough. Trowa estimated that it was because of his weakened state and the fact that he had been wondering around New York City half dressed on a rainy October night. Trowa had not asked any questions about him, neither his state of near undress nor his appearance of having, as he so delicately put it 'that just mugged' look. For which Quatre was very grateful.
Quatre himself was still having trouble coping with it. It had not been the first time one of his lovers had gotten angry or tired of him. No, that seemed to be a sport of sort. Break down the young blonde's defenses then blow up at him in a fit of pent up sexual furry, and then lash out in some way, though no one had ever lashed out with fists before. Sighing at the turmoil in his mind, Quatre rose from his bed in the guest room and walked steadily down the hallway towards the kitchen. He heard the faint sputter of Trowa's coffee pot and smiled slightly. The doctor always woke up before him. This was a bit of a wonder in his mind, because he normally didn't sleep in after 6:00a.m. on most days.
He tied the green and blue flannel robe tighter around his waist; having borrowed it from Trowa it was far too big for him. And even when the belt was tied firmly it hung loosely on his hips most of the time. He sighed again, it was becoming a habit. He hated being petit. Trowa was sitting on one of the stools surrounding the island in the kitchen, the morning's paper spread out before him. Quatre cleared his throat discreetly, not wanting to startle the other person. Trowa nodded in his direction a small smile flitting across his handsome face. "Good morning Quatre." He said warmly looking up to him as he reached for his coffee cup.
"Good morning Trowa, what are you still doing home." He inched closer to the coffee pot, hoping he could snag a cup before Trowa could notice. Being on a liquid diet of broth meant no caffeine, and if Quatre had to live one more day with out coffee he just might snap on the poor well-meaning doctor. Trowa looked directly at Quatre a small smile playing on his face. "I was given the day off, apparently I work too much. And I already have your orange juice set out right here, don't waste it." Quatre's shoulders slumped in incredulous defeat. Trowa laughed at the comical sight he presented, and took another sip of his coffee looking at him over his glasses. "You've been trying for the past three days; I don't expect you'd give up now."
Quatre smiled shaking his head at the injustice of it all and sat down on the stool across from him. Taking a sip of his still cool orange juice he shuddered at the tart taste and didn't notice the way Trowa watched as he licked his lips attempting to get all of the sticky juice off. He set the glass down gently on the black marble top of the island and looked at Trowa for a minute twiddling his thumbs. "Trowa, I think there's something we need to discuss." Trowa looked up, laid the paper down, then re-shifted him self on the seat and picked up his coffee. "Of course, what's on your mind?" Quatre took a deep breath readying him; he really didn't have any choice in this. It was very kind of Trowa to be helping him like this but he couldn't keep being so hospitable forever. Nothing this good ever lasted longer than a year at most. "I'd like to return to my old apartment." He said in a great whoosh of breath. Trowa arched one brow elegantly and motioned with his mug to continue. "I can't keep excepting hospitality like this, and I certainly can't keep borrowing yours or your brothers' clothes."
Trowa nodded sagely and set his cup down folding his hands in front of him, he then looked at Quatre hard. "That's not all." He said quietly, his forest green eyes were so expressive Quatre almost thought he saw a kind of urgency there. Quatre looked down at his hands; not wanting the other to see what he knew was mirrored in them. "Quatre," Trowa commanded softly. He looked up to see a softer expression on the doctor's face while Trowa's hand reached out to lightly touch his arm. "I cannot help if I don't know the situation." Quatre smiled shyly. "Mission analysis?" He said jokingly allowing a soft smile to grace his face. Trowa did not look amused. He put his head down on the counter top, repressing the urge to sigh.
"Well, I suppose what you mean is my . . . nervousness?" Quatre knew he was purposely stuttering and hesitating. Just so that Trowa might get bored, say forget it, and leave him alone to face his shame and humiliation with out an audience. He heard an impatient sigh and had just a second to look up before his nose nearly bumped Trowa's. Quatre tried to jerk back but the stern look in Trowa's eyes stopped him "Quatre," He said slowly, his eyes never leaving the others'. While Quatre wondered lamely if this was what prey saw before the predator pounced, he doubted that normal prey ever had such a good-looking predator. "I have a very bad feeling that the one who did this to you is going to be at that apartment." As Trowa said this calmly, Quatre's face burned. He then broke eye contact, looking off to the left while shielding his eyes behind his bangs. "It's not what you think," He said quietly. "It's not really my apartment it's his. But I have some very important things in there and I need to get them. You don't have to worry. I'm not asking you to come with me, that'd be too-"Quatre's eyes widened in surprise as a soft yet firm hand gripped his chin forcefully and pulled his face back up to stare at now cool green eyes. The fingers on his chin tilted his head up slightly and Trowa spoke loudly and clearly. "When are you going to realize Mr. Winner that you are, in no way, a bother to me? That if I was angry with you I wouldn't hesitate to either clock you or throw you into the hallway? I do not trouble myself with things that are meaningless or a waste of time Quatre. So stop telling me that you will not trouble me any more or that you don't want to burden me. If you were a burden then you wouldn't be here." Then why am I still here? Quatre thought sadly, pulling his chin from Trowa's now lax hold he slipped off the stool, taking his juice glass to the sink he set it in and rinsed it out. "You don't, understand Trowa." He said quietly, the glass now fully rinsed he turned the water off as he carefully dried off his hands on the dishtowel over the sink.
Trowa moved to stand behind him, leaning on the island. "What don't I understand Quatre?" Quatre turned to him then, his eyes sparkling; as his cheeks took on a rosy pink hew. "You don't know me at all, how could you trust me so completely? How do you know that I'm not what I say I am?" Quatre looked to his feet again, willing the tears to go away and leave him alone. He was so damned emotional, he sometimes wondered if he really was a woman trapped in a mans body. Two strong hands settled one on each shoulder and Quatre brought his head up slightly so now he was looking at Trowa's chest and not his bare feet. "I know Quatre," Said Trowa softly and firmly. "Because I have never before had a guest who not only tries his best to stay out of the way, but almost tries to act as if he weren't even there." Quatre blushed and lowered his gaze once again. "That doesn't prove anything." He muttered miserably. He felt the sudden shake in Trowa's arms and looked up to find the taller man silently laughing.
"Why are you laughing?" He asked somewhat indignantly. Trowa looked down upon him again, an amused light now present in his eyes. "You are absolutely right, it doesn't prove anything, but the fact still remains that I believe you are a good person let alone a bother. And that my friend is more than enough for me." Quatre looked up into Trowa's eyes blinking stupidly. Trowa moved his face slightly closer, leaning down in a way that seemed intimate. Then he smiled and patted Quatre on the shoulder. "Well get dressed Quatre, after all what better time than the present to claim your things." Trowa moved away from him and headed down the hallway to his room. "I'll meet you in the living room in 10 minutes, hurry though I have other things we can do once we get your things." Quatre's feeling of relief was short lived as soon as the word "we" was out of Trowa's mouth he found the small blond almost frantically jogging down the hall to him. "B-But Trowa I coul-"Trowa stopped dead still causing Quatre to bump lightly into the brunette's back smacking his nose smartly against Trowa's shoulder blades. Quatre began to protest as soon as Trowa turned around, but stopped as the coldness in his eyes came back with a vengeance.
"Quatre," He said his voice once again firm. He nodded slightly. "If I don't go, you don't go. Understood?" He nodded his head weakly, backing up slightly. Suddenly the look was gone to be replaced with the mild amusement he normally saw there. "Good, see you in ten minutes." Quatre nodded dumbly as he turned and walked steadily down the hall to his own room. Oh for the love of all the gods, what have I gotten into?
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Trowa glanced over at Quatre as they proceeded to get closer and closer to their destination. His black mustang convertible hummed softly as they drove in the direction Quatre had spoken to him. Quatre sat subdued and silent in the passenger seat glancing almost fervently out the window at anything. Trowa wanted to ask if the blonde wanted to just get his things through the police, but knew he would never even think about it. Hell, he probably thought he'd be burdening the cops if he reported anything less than a triple homicide or a 20-man gang shooting. Trowa knew he was being unfair but he couldn't help it.
They stopped at a light and Trowa glanced once again at the young man next to him. Quatre hadn't spoken to him anymore than necessary since leaving the house, and barely looked at him unless he thought he was going on unobserved. This hadn't been like the young man he had been talking to for the last three days. As Quatre's health had improved the boy had seemed less easy to spook. He didn't jump when touched any more, something that both relieved and informed Trowa. If Quatre had been taking abuse for a long time then he would still be flinching and even more nervous or worried than he now appeared to be. He had also spoken much more. He told Trowa that he had fled his apartment after a disagreement with his partner and had been hoping to make it to his friend's house in order to recuperate.
For some reason beyond Trowa, the man seemed to believe that it was his fault that he had to leave in the first place. Trowa hadn't spoken of his thoughts on the subject to the sensitive young man, though. "Trowa." He glanced over at Quatre noticing with no small amount of trepidation that the boys face had gone slightly paler. "That, that's it right up there on the right," Trowa looked up ahead and saw the old brick building he was pointing to, it was one of those inner city slums, this one happened to be near little Italy. It may have once been a grand apartment complex some time in the fifties or sixties, but was turned into a less than grand brick structure with the over use of uncaring hands. It was made with a circular inner courtyard and a large black wrought iron gate encircling the whole of the building.
Trowa pulled up to the curb, turning off the engine he withdrew the keys from the ignition and turned to look at Quatre. He was biting his lip nervously, the abused flesh turning into a deeper shade of pink than it was. His fingers were curling and uncurling on his thigh whilst digging into the jeans Trowa had let him borrow. He looks damn scared, and damn ready to bolt. "Quatre," He said cautiously. The blonde's head whipped around, eyes widened. "What?" Trowa's puzzlement must have shown on his face for the blonde looked back to his lap immediately. Trowa placed a comforting hand on the young man's shoulder and began to rub it soothingly in small circles. Quatre relaxed a little under his ministrations and let the tension in his shoulders drain out. He looked to Trowa to find warm green eyes upon him again. "Quatre, are you sure you want to do this? There are other ways to get your things; this is making you a nervous wreck." The boy smiled brightly, though Trowa could plainly see the doubt behind his eyes, the doubt and the tiny fragment of fear. "No Trowa, I'm sure I want to do this." Trowa nodded and opened his door. He got out and stood, looking around he could see a couple of street punks down the sidewalk from them and was glad he had put up the top. As soon as Quatre got out of the car he locked the doors and turned on the alarm.
They both walked up the short stone steps to the gateway, and old intercom barely hanging onto the door crackled to life, as they grew closer. "Who is it?" The voice sounded decidedly young, as young as Quatre maybe, but there was a surely a bored note to it that clearly said 'I don't want to be here.' "Wufei?" Said Quatre hesitantly pressing lightly on the dirty button of the com. There was a pause of static on the other end then a slightly surprised. "Quatre?" Quatre sighed slightly relieved and pressed the button again smiling genuinely. "Well who else would it be silly? I came with uh," Quatre glanced back at Trowa who had been standing slightly behind him. Trowa smiled waving his fingers mockingly. "My uh, new friend." There was static again for a moment and then the gates shrieked with protest as they opened. "Come in; bring you Friend with you while you're at it."
Quatre blushed slightly at the mocking tone in the boy's voice and led the way through the old courtyard. He walked briskly across the courtyard the place actually looking much better from the inside than the out. When they reached the double glass doors that lead to the actual building Trowa held the door open for the little blonde, after he scurried in under his arm Trowa stepped in behind him. The lobby of the building was done in a rich classic kind of way. Something you would think to find in little Italy. The walls and ceiling were trimmed with fine dark wood, sculpted and done delicately while the carpets that covered the green and white marble floors were a deep red trimmed with gold.
On each side of the lobby there were two great staircases made of the same black wrought iron that the gates were, black and curving up with the architecture of the building. In the center of the back wall was a large cherry wood desk. Neat as a pin and decorated with a phone computer and what appeared to be security monitors. "Quatre?" The suddenness of another human voice startled even him for a moment and Towa was a little surprised at the youth on the top of the stairs. Granted Wufei was a Chinese or Japanese name but he hadn't expected the grand young man before him. He wore a white long sleeved shirt, stretched taunt across his chest and abdomen showing off a very well built body, and his lower half was encased in a pair of form fitting jeans. His hair was half up half down, jet black strands pushed gently behind delicate ears brushed his shoulders. A pair of thick wire framed glasses was perched precariously on the tip of his nose, and his bare feet padded softly as he tread down the carpeted stairs.
He smiled brightly as he reached the bottom of the stairs and embraced Quatre hugging him tightly. "It IS you! You little punk! We were worried sick about you, you know? Why when we called Heero's to see if you went there and he said no, me and *Trey just about had a heart attack! And then we called your sisters and more than half of them were out of town and, oh what a mess!" Quatre laughed softly and Trowa looked downward a little abashed. He hadn't meant to make any one else worry. Quatre looked up from where the other boy had forced his head into his shoulder smiling brightly. Trowa wondered if he would need sunglasses. "No need to worry, I was heading for Heero and Duo's but, I, well, I didn't quite make it." He blushed slightly and looked down.
The boy, Wufei, raised an ebony eyebrow and looked over Quatre's shoulder at Trowa with eyes the same onyx as his hair. "What happened?" He asked, he sounded like someone's mother hen, though Trowa admitted to feeling slightly that way toward the young man himself. "He ran into me and passed out; I'm a Doctor over at Manhattan Hospital, so I took him home with me and patched him up. I'm Dr. Trowa Barton by the way." Trowa extended his hand and Wufei took it, shaking it firmly. Quatre blushed harder and muttered some thing about an apology. "You don't have to apologize Quatre." Trowa said quietly. A strange look came onto Wufei's face, but he soon brushed it off and hugged Quatre tighter.
"Well either way I'm glad you're safe. I'm Wufei Chang Kushrenada by the way. Myself and my, um, husband are the landlords of the apartment building." Trowa blinked slightly and Wufei blushed a bit for himself this time. It surprised him a little to hear that Wufei was 'married' but then again he supposed it shouldn't have surprised him so much. Quatre had told him that he was a homosexual, though he kind of suspected that from the start. He had seen many fights between men and women and had seen that damage a woman's fist could do as well as the damage a man's fist could. And Quatre had definitely been hit by a man's hand, which angered Trowa.
Wufei looked back down to Quatre with a slight smile. "I guess this means you leaving huh?" He said a little sadly. Quatre's smile faded and he looked to his feet. There was an almost painful pause as Wufei shifted from foot to foot looking from me to him then back. Finally seeming unable to stand it he cleared his throat. "I'll get the keys for the apartment; we called the cops when we heard the noise so he's been gone for a while." Quatre nodded and Wufei turned to walk up the stairs Quatre following him. As Trowa went to follow, he felt a feather light brush on his shoulder. He looked up to see Quatre, his eyes shining almost pleading with his eyes for him not to follow.
He nodded once and then looked up to Wufei. "I'll wait down here if you don't mind." Wufei nodded then suddenly fished a pair of keys from one of his pockets. "Here," He said tossing the keys to Trowa who caught them easily. "Why don't you go get Quatre's mail, it's in box number 004, the box number is on the key, and the mail boxes are right through that arch." Trowa nodded and saluted Quatre with the keys before turning his back on them. He walked quickly over the rich carpet and through the arch which Wufei had pointed. There were at least fifty or so mail boxes, black and made into the wall, it didn't take Trowa long to find Quatre's. After all when you started out with one how hard was it to find 004. He searched the ring for a moment and found the small brass key, inserting it and then turning it in the lock; he opened the little door wide and reached inside.
As he sifted through the mail, and as he looked he remembered the name that he saw on most of the bills. Jason B. Hunter. Well now he knew the name, if only he could place a face he could then hate this man with all of his might. But then again what's in a face? He found two letters for Quatre in the pile of mail. One of them came from a woman by the scent, the other from a fairly prestigious medical supply company if he were correct, Hay's and Watkins. He put the rest of the mail back in, closing the door quietly and pocketing the two envelops. He was about to turn around when a cold metal object was pressed calmly against the base of his neck. "Don't move a muscle; I have every intention of using this weapon if you give me any cause. Is that clear?" The voice was a rich baritone, slightly accented and strong. Trowa raised his hands and moved to slowly turn around.
As he did so he tensed ready to spring at the slightest misstep. He found himself looking down the cool point of a small switch blade. The cold metal blade gleamed brightly in the dim light. The man was as Trowa had expected him to be tall, a few inches taller than himself with a strong muscular build. His features were chiseled almost like someone had carved him from marble. His skin was slightly tanned and his hair rippled in gold and ginger waves. Two deep blue eyes looked unerringly back at his as one eye brow rose. "Don't tell me, a well to do looking person like you doesn't know it's a federal offense to steal others' mail?" Trowa blinked once, then twice. "Are you not going to answer my question?" Asked the man mockingly as he leveled the blade. Trowa stepped back a little as he relaxed his stance. "What would be the use, it was a rhetorical question. You didn't see how I took the mail did you?"
The man's mouth quirked in a small smile and he lowered the blade some. "True it was a rhetorical question, but I'm glad you've decided to talk to me." Trowa smiled and held the keys up in his left hand so he could see them. "All the better to explain things with." He said, and tossed the keys to the man hoping his guess was right. The ginger man caught them easily still not with drawing the threat of the switch but not advancing it either. The man looked from him then to the keys, then to the small charm hanging form the ring. "I came in here with Quatre, he and Wufei went upstairs to the apartment and Wufei wanted me to get Quatre's mail."
The man shook his head and smiled. Then with an expert flick of his wrist the blade was gone and the switch was secured into the back pocket of his pants. He reached out to take Trowa's hand and Trowa took his in turn both shaking firmly. "Why don't we start over?" He said gently a smile now shining all over his face. "I'm-" There was a sudden bang from the way of the stairs and we both whirled in time to hear a resilient thud and then a pained cry. There were more thuds and before he even knew it both Trowa and the ginger haired man were racing up the stairs. They had both just graced the top when Trowa heard a loud cry "Trowa!" He looked up, and the sight that greeted him made his blood run cold. "Quatre hold on!"
Authors notes: Hahahaha! I left you at a cliff hanger! I'm evil! I have a question, does any one look at any of the authors bios? Because I posted a poll on mine and no one has responded yet! Wahhh! Would you guys be so kind as to visit my bio page and take my poll? Thank you. I'll try to update as soon as I can. Thanks
Extra Note: * I know his name is Treiz, but I thought it'd be cute to have Wufei call him by some nick name cause Treiz calls Wufei Dragon all the time. Just some Fluffiness from my fav pair! ^_^ Couldn't resist! Any who, I'll update soon, and please Take my pole!!
~Owari*